


Donut Hole: Oumami Songfic

by Pen_And_Dagger



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Amami's got wicked amnesia, K1-B0's a good boi, M/M, Monokuma's an actual teddy bear, Ouma's tears are legit, Post-Game/It Was All Virtual Reality AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 13:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12482184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pen_And_Dagger/pseuds/Pen_And_Dagger





	Donut Hole: Oumami Songfic

_When was it I got these memories? These big ones I can’t remember?_

Rantaro Amami… That’s the name I remember as my own. I don’t know why, but I don’t remember much of anything. I’d like to say I’m forgetful, but I’m pretty sure it’s a bit more intense than forgetfulness. I don’t have any evidence of that, it’s just a feeling. Well, I don’t think I have any proof… I’d like to remember what I forgot, really I do. Now don’t go thinking I’m sitting around just letting things go. I’m doing my best to remember, I swear.

_Try one more time, a hundred times…_

It’s become almost routine now. I sit at a desk with a notebook, thinking. Thinking, harder and harder, waiting for something to pop into my head. I don’t get why, but I just know that I have to write down anything I remember off the cuff. I guess I know if I don’t I’ll forget it again. Most of the pages are completely blank. Whenever I look back at what I wrote I keep finding the same thing over and over again.

_...All I remember is your face._

Every page that had something on it had just a simple drawing of his face. Not a single detail is remembered differently from page to page. I can’t help but keep remembering it every time I try to recall what I’ve forgotten. I once again close the notebook with a new drawing of the same face. He’s important, that much I know for sure. 

_And yet you yourself, I’m not sure why, but I just can’t remember you…_

Many times I’ve tried to remember what was so significant about that face that I couldn’t stop remembering that before anything else. I can’t remember a name, a relationship, or any other clear details. How do I know this person, and why is he so significant in relation to my memories? Is he a family member? A significant other? A close friend? A sworn enemy? Whatever he is, why do I find him so significant compared to the rest of the world?

_Not knowing anything at all, well, that won’t hurt you will it?_

Sometimes my quiet existence is broken by the owner of that face, but at night I seem to forget again. I know that face as a purple form interrupting the light blues and greens that usually surround me. I always see anticipation in his eyes when he comes, but I never know why. Is he waiting for me to do something? Say something? I’m sure I’ve spoken to him before if he addresses me so familiarly. Today he said something strange. He said I need to hurry up so we can go home. Home? Do I not live here? Are we roommates? Something deep inside tells me to keep these questions to myself, so I don’t ask. He left with a defeated expression. Those two expressions are the ones I always draw. Anticipation and defeat. 

_When I’d try to count all the feelings I lost, I’d find I forgot even the voice you shared with me._

Morning was here again. I don’t think I slept much because I’m lacking the motivation and energy to get up. After an hour I did. Next was going back to the notebook. What will I remember today? Anticipation or defeat? The cover of the notebook had a sticky note on it telling me to stop throwing it out the window. Did I do that? The note makes it sound like it isn’t the first time it happened, so I guess I did. I remember both today, the page sharing both expressions. The next few hours were occupied by bland food and talking to an unfamiliar metal person about what I do or don’t remember. He acted like he knows me somehow. I’m pretty sure I’ve never met a person made of metal. I still can’t remember much more than that purple face. Why is that?

_The tears come pouring out, there’s nothing I can do…_

He appeared today. His face is the only thing familiar about him. What he’s saying and how he’s behaving don’t make sense. Also, where are his pajamas? Everyone I see wears pajamas except him and that metal person. I lightly poke his cheek and mumble my discovery that he wasn’t metal either. He questions if something called a “Kee-boy” is messing with my head. He gained that defeated look again when I told him I don’t know what that means. Did that upset him? I try to ask if he’s alright, but I can’t finish the sentence. I tried to say a name I don’t know, and now as punishment, I’m stumbling over countless “um”s and “uh”s like an idiot. He’s crying now. Why’s he crying? Am I supposed to know his name? He didn’t say it even once. The metal person came and took him into the hall to calm down. I can’t help but stand in the doorway’s blindspot to eavesdrop. 

_When I’d try to count all the simple feelings..._

Guilt. It’s entirely my fault he started crying. How do I make him feel better if I don’t even know his name? I don’t want to make it worse, but I don’t know how to make it better. Confusion. The metal person said he should’ve known how bad it was. How bad what was? What am I missing here? What’s so bad that stumbling over my words could make him cry? Fear. They seem in agreement that it isn’t time to tell me about “that”. What is it? What aren’t they telling me? They were talking about it like it happened a long time ago. How long ago? How long have I been here, oblivious to whatever it was they won’t explain? Anger. They know it has something to do with me. I have a right to know! If it brings me closer to what I can’t remember, then someone should think enough to fill me in! Regret. I don’t feel right going out and demanding to be informed. Why did I think about doing that? Maybe they already told me about it and I forgot… I can’t say for sure and it’s frustrating. 

_In the end, I remembered that little word._

I back away from the door, going back to thinking. The black and white teddy bear on the bed is comforting to squeeze. It feels like I’m getting revenge on it for something, but it feels like it’s trying to make me feel better at the same time. I can’t explain the feeling at all. I did nothing but sit there and think. Think. Think. Think. What can’t I remember? How can I fix this? Half crushed teddy bear, help me find the answer! Before I could will the bear to spill the answers again, a word came to mind. It was a small word, but it felt beautiful to mutter under my breath.

_Your name is-_

This time, I actually went out to face the two just outside the door. They stopped talking altogether, looking stunned that I was there. I could see the uncertain anticipation on both their faces. There was no attempt to hide it. The purple one is the object of my announcement. What I remember is… 

“Kokichi!” 

That’s all I need to say. There’s the word he was waiting for me to say. He was waiting for me to remember his name. If he were larger he could’ve tackled me in a hug filled to the brim with joy and relief. I feel the emptiness in my head fading at least a little. I still have a lot to remember, but that’s okay.

I remembered what’s important to me, the rest can wait a little longer.


End file.
